


Select Styles Starting At...

by shiny_glor_chan



Series: A.Ham Retail AU [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiny_glor_chan/pseuds/shiny_glor_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sir, as I said before, the sign does specify select styles starting at nine ninety-nine,” Alex explains with great effort to keep up his fake smile.</p><p>AKA</p><p>If Alex gets one more customer complaint documentation, he's out of a job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Select Styles Starting At...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lafbaeyette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/gifts).



> Alternate Titles That I Almost Chose Because Of My Playlist Shuffle:
> 
> It's A Hard Knock Life (from Annie)  
> I Won't Say I'm In Love (from Hercules)
> 
> Tbh, either of these could have worked. <3

If it weren’t for the fact that if Alex gets one more customer complaint, he’ll be out on his ass with no job, he’d tear this customer a new one. Though, at the rate this Fat Motherfucker’s ranting, Alex isn’t sure he’ll be able to contain himself much longer.

“-if the price on the tag is the real price, then why have the sign at all? You’re not advertising the correct price anyway,” Fat Motherfucker (as Alex has so fondly nicknamed him) complains as Alex bites his cheek so hard he might draw blood.

“Sir, as I said before, the sign does specify select styles starting at nine ninety-nine,” Alex explains with great effort to keep up his fake smile.

“In fine print,” Fat Motherfucker scoffs. “There’s one tee shirt for that price. Everything else is at least twenty dollars. That’s false advertising if I ever saw it!”

Alex fights the impulse to jump over the counter and pummel the guy, but before he can make his retort, the next person in line speaks up. “Dude, he's just doing his job. Chill. You're making a scene, and you gonna do that to someone who probs makes minimum wage? That's low.”

Fat Motherfucker flushes red from embarrassment and seems to notice his wife near the entrance of the store, wearing a pinched look. “Well, I won’t be shopping here anymore!” he announces, tossing his unwanted garments on the counter, one of the shirts sliding to the ground.

“Not like we carry your size anyway,” Alex mutters under his breath when Fat Motherfucker is out of earshot as he collects the clothes on the counter to put in the closet behind him.

He’s ready to go around the counter to pick up the shirt that had fallen during fat motherfucker’s tantrum, but Alex finds that the next customer has already picked it up. He even hands it to Alex instead of laying it on the counter. Alex murmurs a thanks as he puts the shirt away, and it isn’t until he turns back around that he really gets the chance to take in his next customer.

Dark, curly hair tied back in a tight ponytail. Freckles. Tanned skin. Bright, hazel eyes. Alex never believed in ‘oh no, he’s hot’ moments, but there’s a first time for everything as Oh No, He’s Hot places his purchase on the counter. His purchase which happens to be the tightest skinny jeans their mens’ department carries.

“I can’t stand people like that,” Oh No, He’s Hot says with a slight scowl. “Hope I didn’t seem to presumptuous, but you looked like you were going to curse him out, so...” 

Alex swallows thickly as he scans the price tag on the jeans. “Oh no, thank you. You were right about that,” he agrees, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as strained to this man as it does to his own ears. “I can’t take another customer complaint.”

Oh No, He’s Hot smiles widely, and Alex feels his face heat up. “I’m glad I was able to help defuse the situation then,” he replies as he takes out his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“Thirty-nine ninety-nine,” Alex answers as, trying to not stare at Oh No, He’s Hot _too_ intensely as he swipes his debit card to pay for the jeans.

Alex quickly pops the censor and bags the jeans, the speed out of habit and not any need for Oh No, He’s Hot to leave faster. “Receipt in the bag, sir?”

“Sure,” Oh No, He’s Hot says as he pockets his wallet then reaches for the bag when Alex is done with it.

Their hands brush for a moment, and Alex swears it’s like an electrical charge running through his whole body. “Have a nice day,” he murmurs in a bit of a daze.

Oh No, He’s Hot gives him a dazzling smile. “You too.”

Then he’s gone, and Alex’s left staring at the door for a good, long minute before shaking himself from his stupor. He fast walks away from the register, heading for Aaron Burr and the fitting rooms. Aaron sees him coming and looks like he’s holding back a cringe.

“Yes, Alexander?” Aaron asks when Alex stop abruptly in front of the fitting room counter. 

“That last customer with the cute freckles that I just checked out. Did he try on those skinny jeans?” Alex asks, hands flat on the counter top.

Aaron stares at Alex blandly. “I assume so,” he replies.

Alex’s face sours. “Burr, why do you have to make my life difficult? I just want to know how his ass looked in those jeans!”

“Hello, how are you doing today?” Aaron asks the customer behind Alex instead, walking around the counter to count their items. “Let me grab you a dressing room, follow me.”

With a half strangled noise, Alex lets his head drop against the counter with a resounding thud.

**Author's Note:**

> I work retail. Some things in this series will be inspired by that. Also, I blame Pip. That is all. And the Fat Motherfucker is exactly who you think it is.


End file.
